Mummy's Gift
by ravenoak21
Summary: A mother's love can live forever, and connections can be made over the course of years through the help of friends.


**A little Christmas offering. This started rattling through my brain a few days ago and so, here it is. It features Sherlock, John, and Mrs Hudson.**

**As always, I own nothing pertaining to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Sherlock Holmes, The BBC or Sherlock. The song "When A Child IS Born" was first written around 1972 and can be found on Youtube.**

December had come to London. Holly wreaths, mistletoe, and evergreen bows and trees were cropping up all over the city dressed in lights, tinsel, and baubles. The weather was co-operating with fitful spits of snow and or sleet.

Many stores had started playing carols and 221B Baker Street was no different. A wreath was on the door and Mrs. Hudson could be heard humming snatches of carols as she potted between her flat and the one up the seventeen steps where her "boys" resided as she made sure the workmen who checked the heating systems and serviced the fireplaces and chimney did not leave a mess...or any more then Sherlock could make by himself.

Dr. John Watson piled out of a taxi dragging a couple of carrier's bags along. Since his days in the hot dry climate of Afghanistan he had not really felt warm. The desert heat had thinned his blood and he had not yet been able to acclimate to the cool, raw, damp temperatures of the English winter. He had intended to do mostly Christmas shopping but a set of insulated long johns, a couple of turtle necks and a warm looking jumper had made their way into his bags. He paid the driver with a cheery smile, got the front door opened and got everything lugged gingerly up the stairs to the flat to the strains of violin music.

John paused to listen. It wasn't a tune he was familiar with but it had a haunting but lilting quality. Some of the phrases fairly soared but were sweet and plaintive.

"A Christmas carol, Sherlock?"

The tall brunet's body swung slightly as he sought to make eye contact with his flatmate.

"A song Mummy used to hum to me at times. The first time I heard it was near to Christmas, yes. But that was not the only time she would use it for me."

"You never researched it?"

"I never felt the need. Her voice was true and I grew up with it. I learned to play it by ear."

John put the shopping bags down in the hall before moving through to the kitchen to put the kettle on. Then he remembered something he forgot and moved to one of the bags marked Tesco.

"I bought some raw honey and cinnamon to put in our tea. It supposed to be good in helping to fighting off a cold. Or it can be taken in measured doses if we start to feel punky."

"Didn't know you went in for homeopathy, John."

"Can't be any worse then Mrs. Hudson's herbal soothers."

His flatmate huffed and turned back towards the window and resumed playing the tune that greeted John a few minutes ago.

"Hoo-hoo."

John looked up then jumped to take the cardboard box from their landlady.

"Christmas decorations, Mrs. H?" He set the box carefully down in the corner formed by the bookshelf and the kitchen door.

"I have plenty and don't need all of them for my little flat. Thought you two would like to do some cheering up of your own."

John gave him one of his warmest, most sincere smiles.

"Thank you so much. Just the thing to ward off some of this winter gloom."

She moved to pat his cheek fondly then turned towards the violinist.

"Oh, Sherlock. I am so glad you know that. Can you sing and play at the same time?"

He stopped playing and turned to look at her.

"I never knew it had words. Mummy only hummed it. She never sang it. Do you know the words then?"

"Oh dear. I don't have much of a voice."

"I am sure you will sound fine. And I would like to hear them. John, get her some water for her throat. It cannot be at all cold." Sherlock escorted Mrs. Hudson to the sofa then took his chair and settled himself to listen closely.

John handed her the glass of water then took his own chair.

She took a couple of sips then smiled shyly at her tenants then settled herself and started to sing.

"A ray of hope flickers in the sky.

A tiny star lights up way up high

All across the land, dawns a brand new morn'

This comes to pass when a child is born.

A silent wish sails the seven seas

The winds of change whispers in the trees

And the walls of doubt crumble tossed and torn

This comes to pass when a child is born.

A rosy hue settles all around.

You got to feel you're on solid ground.

For a spell or two no one seems forlorn.

This comes to pass when a child is born.

It's all a dream, an illusion now.

It must come true some time soon some how

All across the land dawns a brand new morn'

This comes to pass when a child is born."

After the last note faded away the flat fell silent and the three occupants let it remain so for a few moments. It was John who reluctantly broke it.

"That was beautiful, Mrs Hudson. Simply lovely."

"Yes, Mrs. Hudson. It was very nice. Thank you."

"You're both very welcome. But now I have to get going. I've got some baking I want to get done"

John looked around then pushed himself up out of his chair.

"Well, since we now have some decorations to put up, I think I will get started. You going to help, Sherlock."

Sherlock got up and moved to stare out the window but his head turned and tilted in John's direction.

"In just a moment."

He turned back towards the glass and watched as the flakes of snow grew more substantial, like the down feather's of a dove's breast.

In a whisper softer then a breath. "Thank you, Mummy. Happy Christmas."


End file.
